


Easing

by randompandemic



Series: Cullen & Róisín [11]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Ambiguous Inquisitor, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-09
Updated: 2015-08-09
Packaged: 2018-04-13 20:51:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4536882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/randompandemic/pseuds/randompandemic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor notices her Commander is tense and exhausted and she decides to do something nice for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Easing

She first notices it at their meeting in the war room that morning. Cullen seems distracted, keeps rubbing his neck, rolling his head back and forth and side to side, stretching his shoulders awkwardly. He seems uncomfortable. He has shadows under his eyes, clearly has not slept a lot or maybe in an awkward position. She cannot help but notice, considering he had not come to her chambers that evening as he had done others. 

Over the course of the day, she watches him carefully. When he oversees the training of new recruits, he does not pick up a sword himself today, which is unusual. And sometimes, when he thinks no one is looking, he pulls a face that tells of pain and discomfort. She sees him hunched over paperwork, then sitting up straight, stretching his shoulders. And about halfway through the day, she makes a decision. She will have to do something about her Commander’s condition. 

When he finds her small note on his desk in the evening, all it says is ‘Important business to discuss, meet me in my chambers’. So, with a suffering sigh he crosses Skyhold, the throne room, to climb up the tower. His steps are heavy and tired as they come up the stairs to her chambers. He is unsure what business requires his attention after a busy day like this. But he does not expect to find the Inquisitor’s chambers dipped in warm candlelight and the air fragrant with incense. The Inquisitor stands waiting, smiles at him. She is draped in a lovely silken robe, with no jewellery and no shoes. A fire cracks in her fireplace, joining the candles and incense smell with a hint of woodsmoke.

“I am glad you came, love,” she says. He smiles, although he is tired, she always finds a way to make him smile.

“What is all this?” he asks. She points to the bed. 

“Please. Take off your clothes and lie down.”

He hesitates but a moment, then complies. Her request had not sounded like an order, and not meant to be seductive. He is not sure what exactly it was. 

Achingly slow, he takes off his coat and armour, his shoulders tense with pain that has been crawling up and down his spine all day. She notices his heavy movements and in quick steps, she is by his side to aid him. Quicker, nimbler fingers undo the many buckles and clasps of his armour, neatly placing it all on the sofa. 

Stripped to nothing but his briefs, Cullen feels a flush in his cheek. He rubs his arms nervously. Somehow, he feels insecure about this. Because he does not know what is going on. This is not like usual, not like their time often spent up here, talking, drinking wine, eating their dinner together, chaste kisses exchanged in the fire light. This is different. Strangely intimate to a point they have not yet talked about. 

She points at the bed again and he follows as instructed. He sits down and lies back. She shakes her head.

“On your stomach.”

He turns over confused and only hears her step closer. “I watched you today. You seem very… tense. Tired. Exhausted almost. And like you are in pain.”

“I didn’t really… sleep last night. The… the withdrawal, it’s… I talked to Cassandra, she says I will be fine, but-”

He feels the bed shift as her weight is added and he tries to see what she is doing. But before he can catch a glimpse, he feels her weight lightly on him. She lowers down carefully in the dip of his spine, putting no unnecessary pressure on his lower back. “Um… what… what are you…”

“Sshhhh… I want you to just… close your eyes and relax.”

He doubts he can relax – not with her straddling him like that, not with her bare thighs so soft against his sides. He hears her rub her hands and then her fingers make contact with his skin. They feel silken, slick with what he assumes to be some kind of oil, as they glide up from the base of his spine, across his back, applying delicate pressure all the way up to his shoulders with her fingertips. He moans, pleasantly surprised. Her hands feel wonderful. His eyes flutter close as she begins kneading his aching muscles, the tense shoulders, the knots and lumps of worry built up in his nerves. She presses and releases, strokes and kneads, sometimes so heavy it is almost painful, but just for a moment before it seems to snap something in him, making him relax, turning him to butter under her soft hands. 

“ _Maker’s breath_ … where… did you…” he mumbles in awe.

“Shhhhh…” she just whispers. Her hands stroke his neck, fingertips almost in his blond curls. Down his shoulders again, his upper arms, back to his shoulders and back down his spine. Every new sensation makes him hum in approval as he melts against her touch. He would believe it to be magic, what she was doing, even though he can sense no mana involved. This is an entirely different magic. His eyes closed, a pleased smile sneaks to his lips. His breath steadies and he feels more relaxed than he has in a long, long while.

* * *

 

How long he lies there with her hands unravelling every knot and every tension in his back, he can’t recall. It is only when he feels her weight shift on the bed that he blinks confused. And he notices that the candles have burned down. She had not been sitting on his back anymore, but had been lying next to him, rousing now to close the curtains. 

“H-how… how long was I out?” he asks confused.

“An hour, maybe two…” she says. 

“ _Maker_ … I am sorry, I was just so…”

She turns and smiles at him.

“It’s alright. You needed the rest. You… you could stay, you know?” she offers, her gaze lowered almost shyly as she comes back and sits down next to him on the bedside. He turns to his side, pushed up by his arms and meets her gaze. He is reluctant to take her hands, then holds them in his carefully. 

“If you will have me.”

She smiles.

“Cullen, I will always have you.”

He smiles relieved. For _Maker_ , he is not sure he will be able to find rest in his room, without her near. He leans to kiss her shoulder, then looks up to meet her lips. She smiles as he pulls her into his arms and they lie down on her bed. Her back is pressed against his chest, the warmth radiating from her body engulfs him just as sure as his arms hold her. He closes his eyes surrounded by the scent of her hair and he is certain to find rest that night, far away from nightmares and the tempting songs the lyrium sings to him when he is alone at night.  


End file.
